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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29193681">WIP amnesty files</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefilthiestpiglet/pseuds/thefilthiestpiglet'>thefilthiestpiglet</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, M/M, WIP Amnesty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:00:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,354</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29193681</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefilthiestpiglet/pseuds/thefilthiestpiglet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>All right, here be a collection of WIPs that are going to stay WIPs, but have enough in them that I'm posting before I delete the file from my computer.</p><p>Ch 1: Owner's Manual, the Nat pov to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6295912">Real Food</a> (~60% complete))<br/><b>Ch 2: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29193681/chapters/71677812">Good Use</a></b>, where Bucky assumes sex = pain (99% complete)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Owner's Manual</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Natasha POV + Bucky recovery to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/6295912">Real Food</a>.  </p><p>Got stuck about 60% of the way in.</p><p>4k words</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Wow, this wip was created 12/11/2016!!   I started it shortly after finishing <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/6295912">Real Food</a> because I wanted to write Natasha POV.  Then it turned out that Natasha POV is really hard to write.</p><p>Anyway, I got about... 60% of the way through, and then hit a moment where I really didn't know how to write Natasha and the Soldier's interactions.  So I stopped.  So here's 4k of Natasha eating different foods and talking to Steve, Clint, and Pepper</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[Owner's Manual]</p><p>[Hot dogs]</p><p>"The hot dog guy just called you Amy."  </p><p>Nat shrugged.  "Yeah, keep it straight, Clint.  Jorge knows me as Amy, but I'm Natalie to Fareem who works just outside the Tower."  Tiresome as it was to have all of one's covers blown in one big file dump, Nat had to admit that there's a certain charm to starting over.  She gets to be a whole new set of people.  "Natalie is a paralegal who works in the Tower.  Amy is a student at NYU, current major undecided, but leaning towards something in the sciences."</p><p>"And they both like hot dogs, huh?"  Nat punched him in the arm.  It was Clint's idea to grab a hot dog in the first place -- he knows how much she enjoys the crassness of it as something that is decidedly *not* Black Widow.   But she enjoys the excuse to play along, to not think about the endless work waiting for her back at the Tower.  "Amy is taking a class about America at the turn of the century, and she just learned some interesting things about hot dogs and immigration and baseball.  She's from Chicago, though, so she's still kind of new to the whole ketchup on hot dog thing."</p><p>It's a nice sunny day and lots of people are out as they head back towards the tower.  Tony's fancy lunch fundraiser was still over an hour away, which was just enough time for a nice walk back to lower Manhattan.  Clint stops to pet a dog while Nat chows down and looks up the dog breed on her phone.  </p><p>"You know, maybe you should get a cat."  Clint says as the dog and its owner moved on.</p><p>"Can't.  Amy's apartment has a no-pets policy, and it's hard enough getting an apartment in this rental market with any sort of closet space..."  Somehow she was on a page about various dogs' jaw strength. Fascinating.</p><p>Clint taps her on the forehead.  "For YOU, Nat.  YOU should get a cat."</p><p>Ugh.  Sometimes Clint just gets these ideas into his head that she needs more companionship or whatever.  She puts her phone away and uses her most practical voice.  "I can't handle a cat -- they need all this regular care and feeding. You know I'm flying out tonight on a mission and will be gone for at least a week."  Clint opened his mouth to say something, but she cuts him off.  "And no, I'm not going to just leave a whole bag of cat food out."  She tries to peg him with her most imperious look.  "Unlike YOU, I have standards in pet care." </p><p>Clint shrugs.  "I'm pretty sure Tony can make a cat feeder that will solve that problem.  Or heck, you can just ask JARVIS."  Dammit, he knows her too well and isn't going to let this go.</p><p>She rubs her eyes in frustration.  Taking care of a pet isn't just about regular feeding schedules and making sure it's healthy.  It's about being beholden to someone, being tied down to a single place and creature.  It's about being enough of a person to hold up her end of a relationship.  Which is why Clint thinks she needs a cat.  And even though he seems to be absorbed in watching a passing frisbee game, he's still waiting for a serious answer from her.  Sigh.  Honesty it is, then.  "I'm not ready for a cat just yet.  That's too much responsibility for me right now, what with angry senators breathing down my neck, HYDRA to wipe out, Nick giving me missions from beyond the grave, and a whole Tower of Avengers to deal with.  But, maybe when things calm down a bit."  Clint scoffs, and she's inclined to agree -- things are never going to quiet down.  That's the life they've chosen.   "Well, you're one to talk -- I've seen the way you futz with things when you're home with Laura.  But anyway, I'm thinking about it, and in the mean time, I still have Sempy to water."</p><p>She could tell that Clint was still trying to decide whether to let off on it, when her phone rings.  "Is that the national anthem?"</p><p>She rolls her eyes at him as she answers.  Steve knows she prefers texts, so this must be important.  "What is it, Steve?"</p><p>"Nat, I'm sorry to bother you, but Bucky... he just said... I think I might have ..."</p><p>"Steve, deep breath, count to 5.  What did he say?"  She heard Steve take a long breath on the other side. </p><p>"He's been acting weird about the doctor's orders to eat more real food.  At first I thought it was just a hang-up about using plates and forks, or maybe some flavor thing.  But then he made a big deal out of what to wear for Tony's lunch thing, saying that it makes the difference between 300 and 500 calories.  So I asked him what he considered to be food, and he said..."  Steve's voice falters a bit.  "liquids only."  Another ragged breath over the phone, and Nat takes the opportunity to brace herself. It's obvious where this is headed, and Steve's going to need her to help him through this revelation.  "And I got to thinking about how all he's had since coming back to us has been protein shakes and ... my cum... so I asked... and he said..."  Here Steve muffled a sound.  "... that it was just calories."</p><p>Shit.  Nat briefly closed her eyes and silently wished that Barnes would have had more tact.  And now she's the one left having to explain to Steve the myriad ways that HYDRA can warp one's concept of sex.</p><p>But all that has to come later, because much as she trusts Clint, she's in an exposed area, and still wearing Amy's clothes.</p><p>"Okay.  Steve.  The first thing you need to do is work off some of this energy, you need to appear *calm* to Bucky.  The second thing you need to do is reassure him that he didn't do anything wrong.  Reset the previous status quo, even if that situation wasn't that great, either.  And lastly, you need to text me the exact words of your conversation."  This will be an easier conversation over text, anyway.  </p><p>"Thanks, Nat."  On the other side of the phone she hears Steve rubbing his face as he hangs up.</p><p>Clint quirks an eyebrow at her as she checks Steve's new texts.  "What was that?"  </p><p>Sigh.  She was looking forward to a nice leisurely walk, but when a friend's recovering-assassin boyfriend starts malfunctioning... Nat squirts some ketchup on Clint's shirt to vent a bit, and starts dragging him to the nearest subway station as he's sucking on the ketchup stain.  "Come on, we've got to take a side trip -- I have to buy a food processor."   </p><p>Maybe she can even swing by the library and return Amy's books.</p><p>-------</p><p>[Granola bar]</p><p>"Hey."  Steve's room is dark, so she flips on the light switch before closing the door.  Steve is sitting directly to the side of the door, hands twiddling his toes.  The light makes his face look even paler, but at least it also washes out the redness around his eyes.</p><p>Nat flops down on Steve's bed.  (The man wasn't using it, and after that conversation with Barnes in the living room, she fucking deserved it.)  "That was exciting, huh?"</p><p>Still nothing from Steve.  Steve's backboard doesn't have any convenient place for handcuffs: good.  The last thing she needs right now is to think more about the Red Room.</p><p>"You know how this afternoon I said that Bucky might have been taught that sex is simply a tool that his body has?"  Steve's ceiling is boring.  This conversation would be easier if there was something to look at on the ceiling.  "And that food is simply whatever is necessary to maintain his body at optimal fighting weight?"</p><p>"You said those two things probably added up to the "sex = calories" perception.  His body needed more calories, he needed semen, he used sex to get it."  There was something accusatory in Steve's voice.  "You said it was just a food issue.  That this could be fixed if we just..."</p><p>"Steve, I'm sorry."  She flipped over and propped her head up to look Steve in the eye.  "I was working with the intel that I had.  But now I know... *we* know... that it goes much deeper than that."</p><p>Steve is silent and continues kneading his toes.  A few of them crack and squish like they're broken.</p><p>She's...</p><p>She's *not* going to deal with that right now.  Deep breath, focus.  The order of triage goes: make sure Barnes doesn't get more confused, make sure Steve doesn't do anything irrevocably stupid, prep for mission tomorrow.  Steve's unorthodox methods of coping and any personal memories that this dredged up will just have to wait. </p><p>"I don't get it ... what did I say that made him think I gave him to you?"  Steve shook his head.  "I've been going over our entire conversation this afternoon and nothing makes sense.  What made him think I don't want him anymore?"  Steve's voice breaks a bit, but then in changes to perplexity. "Why does he think he can just be given away?"</p><p>"It's because HYDRA made him a weapon -- not just his arm, but his entire mindset."  She shudders a bit at how effective HYDRA's methods were.  Perhaps even more so than the Red Room.  "A weapon that can only be maintained with liquids, for some weird reason.  A weapon that serves at the whims of its commander."   A Black Widow who serves the motherland. <i>Natalia, your body belongs to the motherland.  You must take good care of it, maintain it like you do your knives and guns.  We will teach you to use it properly.</i></p><p>"-- that you were coming to talk to him."  She spaced out for a moment.  Amateur move.  She forced herself into a sitting position on the bed and squared her shoulders.  Digging two granola bars out of her pocket, she tosses one to Steve.</p><p>"No point dwelling on what happened."  She lets the crunch of the granola overpower the murmurings of both her memories and Steve's guilt.  "The current situation is that he thinks I'm his new commander.  He wants to move in with me.  So let's work from there."</p><p>------</p><p>[Hardboiled Egg]</p><p>Natasha got off the elevator at her floor and had enough self control to make it past the entryway and the living room before collapsing on her bed.</p><p>That was worse than a lot of her missions.</p><p>It's easy to be the Black Widow.  And with the Avengers, she mostly just had to be Competent Colleague.  Sometimes it's even fun to smirk at the team shenanigans.  But tonight, Barnes expected her to be his new ... owner? Handler? Commander?  And Steve.  Who was hurting and so confused.  Steve needed her to be an anchor, to be a friend.</p><p>So she was.  Tamping down on the chill of seeing Barnes like what she was, the tremor of how easily she assumed a position of power, she did what was necessary.  What they needed her to do.</p><p>And now, in the quiet of her bedroom, the memories lap at the edge of her mind.  The Red Room.  The pain.  The cold precision.  The certainty of her purpose in life.  It's too tempting, to fall back into the simple clarity of nothingness. </p><p>No.  Not now.  Not tonight.  She still has a mission to prep.</p><p>She rouses herself from her bed.  Checks Sempy's moisture level and adds a bit of water, then checks her phone.</p><p>Clint: <i>How did the food processor go over?  If Barnes didn't want it I can use it to make shrapnel for my explosion arrows.</i></p><p>She hesitates.  On the one hand, Clint would understand.  On the other hand, she'd have to explain.</p><p>She texts back: <i>Pretty sure won't be getting a cat</i> and the catface scream emoji, followed by the hands and 2 santa clauses.</p><p>Clint replies a few seconds later:  Poop, Circus tent, crying-while-smiling, 3 lollipops and 2 turkey legs.  <i>Need me to keep an eye on them while you're off in the Caucasia?</i></p><p>Nat: <i>Nah.</i>  Hair flip. Lipstick. Pizza. Cake.</p><p>Clint: 5 thumbs-ups</p><p>She takes out a hard-boiled egg from the fridge and sits down at the kitchen table to review her upcoming mission.  Missions are simple, with clear parameters and expectations.  She slowly peels the layers of egg white off and nibbles as she reads.   5am flight.  Basic intel mission.  Two cover IDs -- Elene Nanava, a boring socialite with a forgettable pedigree and hmmm... Natela Rokva, newcomer to Tblisi, runs with a rough crowd.</p><p>She adds a garotte to her standard mission bag, and a hoodie with some vaguely humanoid shapes and incongruous symbols.  She'll buy a pack of local cigarettes after she lands.</p><p>It's 12:24, which means she can nap for 4 hours if she foregoes PJs.  She gulps down the egg yolk before brushing her teeth.  (She's always hated the texture, but <i>you get one with each meal, that's how much your country loves you</i> it'd be a waste to throw away.)  Then she turns off the light, lies back in the bed and looks up at the glow-in-the-dark stars she's pasted to her bedroom ceiling.</p><p>Maybe she left her village home because all her friends were married with their third child on the way.  She's not quite sure about Patriarch Ilia's newest baptism initiative, but she still goes to service.  She spends a lot of time hanging out in the park talking with the people hawking old Soviet tchotchkes and filching from the distracted tourists down by the Marriott.  </p><p>Natela wouldn't have a cat, but she'd probably feed some of the strays. </p><p>She closes her eyes and sets her internal clock to wake up in 4 hours.  She should keep an eye out for stray tabbys in Tblisi.</p><p>------<br/>
[Khinkali]</p><p>It takes a moment for Nat to recognize Pepper when the door opens, but then her cautiously inquisitive look gives her away.  Still, Pepper is at least dressed to blend in, and as she walks over to Natasha's table, she does so with a casual saunter and not her usual assertiveness of a business power broker.</p><p>"Hey," Nat turns around and half-stands to give Pepper a light, context-appropriate hug, before sitting down at their grimy restaurant table.  "Nice getup."</p><p>Pepper blushed.  "Well, after almost blowing your cover last month in Bogotá... I practiced a lot."  She looked concerned. "I'm doing okay, right?  I really love our business trip lunches, but if they're endangering your work..."</p><p>Nat smiled, to reassure Pepper, but also because Pepper just put "spy work" and "multinational humanitarian aid conference" on equal standing.  "You're doing great, love the hoodie.  Plus, I just finished my assignment last night, so let's just order some khinkali and stuff ourselves."</p><p>Pepper was in the middle of a particular interesting observation about high heels and social class in the women that she met this trip, when the khinkali came.</p><p>"Oh wow," Pepper's eyes closed in delight as she bit into one.  "This is *much* better than the boring Marriott food they've been serving us."  Nat bit into her own as she watched Pepper daintily slurp up the soupy broth inside. "Definitely worth going through that rather dubious underpass." </p><p>Nat found herself smiling at the thought of Pepper, sneaking out of her fancy hotel incognito and navigating through the slummy part of town just for some proper local food.  It goes down well with the warmth of her own khinkali, and she finds her shoulders unknotting.</p><p>"So, enough about me.  Tony told me there was a ... thing?  With Sergeant Barnes?"  Pepper raised an eyebrow.  Of course Steve would tell Tony.  Especially since he'd skipped Tony's lunch thing.</p><p>Nat let out a sigh and gestured vaguely with her hand.  "Steve and Barnes, communication issues -- you know how it is."</p><p>Pepper nodded.  "I'd blame the stoicism on the time they grew up in, but Tony's that way, too.  The more he's trying to hide and deal with things on his own, the more he talks.  And builds robots."</p><p>Whereas she has her greasy food, and Pepper has her manicures.  And together they have these business trip lunches, for when their jobs take them to the same region of the world.</p><p>"Yeah, these boys are good at saving the world, but are shit at most other things."  Nat crosses her legs and briefly pretends she's in one of those "bunch of friends sharing an apartment" sitcoms.  Just gossiping with a gal-pal at a cafe, never mind that she was crawling through a vent just a few hours ago.  "Y'know, typicial men."</p><p>Pepper laughs, then narrows her eyes, suddenly serious.  "They asked permission before dumping all of their problems on you, right?  Because you are *not* their life manager."</p><p>It's nice, talking to Pepper.  Forces her to examine things from a civilian perspective.</p><p>"Well, it's a bit complicated."  She turns the thing around in her head.  "Barnes is... well, he's not really in a proper mental state to even realize he has problems, much less ask for permission.  And Steve... he's out of his depth, and it all happened so fast that I kind of had to take charge.  I think if he were aware what he'd be saddling me with, he wouldn't have asked for my help."  Probably would have suffered quietly, like he did for those two years before Barnes' appearance in DC.</p><p>Nat thinks back to Steve's haunted look back then, refusing to let anyone in, refusing to let anyone see the yawning emptiness inside.  She had known, of course, but she isn't one to knock on doors and ask to be let in.  Especially since there wasn't even a door until Barnes showed up.</p><p>"Well?  What *is* he saddling you with?"</p><p>"Barnes."</p><p>Pepper raised her eyebrows, and waited.</p><p>Nat thinks briefly of showing Pepper the texts that she's been sending, but no, that's too much.  "Barnes thought Steve was his commander, which... Steve wasn't handling well.  So now he thinks I'm his commander."  She makes a face that she thinks is the socially appropriate amount of discomfort.  "Which apparently means that he's will be staying with me when I'm not on missions."  The guy's going to be waiting for her at her door, with that neat bag of weapons and the food processor.  The thought settles into the pit of her stomach, a cold knot that the khinkali can't reach.  She still eats one, though.  "Steve's going to have *conniptions* -- I'm basically stealing his boyfriend."  </p><p>"Nevermind Steve. Are *you* okay with it?"</p><p>It takes her a moment to process the question.  And then she has to hold back a bark of laughter at the sheer temerity of it.  Spoken as if her feelings on the matter would change things.  She'd learned long ago that it didn't, that the only way forward is to accept the task at hand and get it done.  But as the absurdity of the thought pirouettes around her head, it dislodges something and suddenly she feels dizzy: The Black Widow is okay with everything.  Has to be.  But she *isn't* the Black Widow.  Or at least, not always, not anymore. And if that's true, then...</p><p>But no.  Even if a dim part of her twists and twinges at the thought of Barnes moving in with her, it's what she should do.  Not as Black Widow, but as Steve's friend.  As a senior Avenger.  And because she's probably the only person who can do something about Barne's current situation. </p><p>Nat bites into another khinkali (her 6th), and remembers Barnes' careful posture and empty eyes as he sat on the couch and made his report.  She doubts that Steve caught even 1/10th of what Barnes had left unsaid.  This wasn't something that Steve could have handled on his own.  Hell, even *she* couldn't see the size of it.  So, no, she *has* to be okay with it.</p><p>Still, here, lunching with Pepper in a grimy restaurant in the Caucasus, she can afford a small grimace.  "Well, it's been a long time since I've had a roommate, so it'll definitely take some adjustment."  Oh god he's going to need half the fridge.  "But it should just be a few months, and only when I'm not on a mission.  So I think I can deal."</p><p>Pepper nods.  "Dealing could be a good thing.  Dealing with Tony has taught me how to handle all the other petulant manchilds that populate corporate culture."  They both knew that Tony was more than that, but the point stands: this can be a learning opportunity if she makes it one.  Pepper smiles and continues.  "You'll tell me if you need anything, right?  For example, we can get Patty and her crew to attach another suite to your existing rooms.  And if the testosterone ever gets too much..."</p><p>Nat smiles and mimes the gesture.  "I'll send you or Maria a text."   She won't, but it's nice to think about.  Maybe one day, when showing her vulnerabilities doesn't feel like gnawing her own hand off.</p><p>In the mean time, there are 4 more khinkali with her name on it.</p><p> </p><p>-----<br/>
[Banana and berry smoothie]</p><p>Of course Barnes was waiting on the tarmac when she landed.  His duffle bag on one shoulder and the damn food processor under the other.  Steve hovered nervously behind him, idly snapping his left pinky.</p><p>Barnes walks over and stands at parade rest, and Natasha is briefly grateful that he isn't on his knees.  "Reporting for service, ma'am."</p><p>Natasha realizes that she's gone soft in these years with SHIELD and the Avengers.  Her body recognizes this space as safe, or at least "no longer a mission" and it takes her a few moments to whip her mind back into gear.  She can't relax yet.</p><p>"Call me Natasha."</p><p>"Yes, Natasha."</p><p>"What do you want to be called?"</p><p>The barest glimmer of a frown crossed his face.  "Whatever you want, Natasha."</p><p>And in that, she could tell that he mold himself to whatever she desired.  She was taught to be different people, but always for a mission.  Never for the personal whims of a handler.  But Barnes --</p><p>"James or Barnes?"  Keep it simple, just a choice between two.  That's hard enough.</p><p><i>On the table: a pack of cigarettes and a potato peeler.   "Pick one."</i>  Even then she knew it was a trick question.  She wasn't supposed to pick.  If she picked, the Madame would use both.  Or something worse.  Her preferences weren't supposed to matter.  <i>"Whichever one better serves the will of Russia"</i>  The madame decided on the cigarettes.  She held still and kept her eyes open.  It took her a week to heal from the burns. </p><p>Barnes didn't move from his spot.  "Whatever you want, Natasha."</p><p>She sighed.  "It doesn't matter to me.  It's like ... on a mission, you can choose the best weapon for the job.  What is the best name for you?"</p><p>To have a name is to have a personality.  To have a name is to have an individual preference.</p><p>"Tell you what, I'll alternate between the two, and tell me when you think one feels better than the other."</p><p>[show around the room, set rules]</p><p>She hesitates briefly outside her bedroom.  No one's been in here, not even Clint.  But Barnes expects to sleep in the bedroom with her, and anything that confuses him will set back his recovery.  And anything that sets back his recovery will mean he stays with her even longer.</p><p>[She decides that the room is still hers, for now.]</p><p> </p><p>Later on, she tries: "Cucumber or tomato?"</p><p>Finally, she says, "make me a smoothie."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Looking back at it now, I decided I didn't really want to put in the effort of finishing it, because there has to be so much of Natasha catering to Bucky's needs in a space that she's carefully carved out for herself, before she finally hits a point where she finds that she can care for herself *and* something else.</p><p>I *do* have some strong mental images of Natasha doing whatever she usually does, and Bucky just kind of lurking behind a topiary and "idling", like a cat.</p><p>Eventual endgame for this is really for Natasha to feel comfortable enough to have a cat.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Good Use</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bucky thinks sex = pain.  </p><p>Mostly done, just dissatisfied with it</p><p>Wordcount: 1.4k</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wrote this over a day or two in July 2020, and even though it's basically done, I didn't post it because it felt really boring: Bucky thinks getting fucked = pain.  Bucky offers to bottom for Steve because he'd rather be the one to feel pain than Steve.  Bucky discovers that sex doesn't need to equal pain.  The end.</p><p>But I wrote the darn thing, so it feels kind of a pity to delete the file without putting it *somewhere*, so here it is.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It knew that sex was just like other missions — the mission parameters are different, but there is the waiting, the execution, and then the debrief.  </p><p>It did not like sex missions, however — its handlers dictated the timeline and did not give it control of making the final execution.  Mission success is the ejaculation and satiation of its handlers and authorized to use it, and not a death that was to help save humanity.  Also, unlike regular missions, where it got hurt only on the rare occasions where it was outnumbered or sent in with poor intel, sex always hurt.  </p><p>The asset knows that pain is to be ignored, that mission success is its only purpose in life, that it always recovered.  But it also tried to avoid pain where possible.  Successful missions meant less pain.  Keeping confusing visions and dreams behind its tongue and off its face meant fewer wipes.  But there was no way to avoid pain on sex missions.  </p><p>It knew that it wasn’t painful for the handlers, of course — even knew the types of actions that brought them greater pleasure — obedience to various commands — stillness, vocalizations of pain, painful positions, or whatever else the handler desired.  Certain oral techniques with the tongue and throat would deliver pleasure with greater reliability.  There’s also a preference for tightness of its anal tract, often reinforced with charged baton strikes when it failed clamp down by itself.</p><p>But even if those using it for sex missions seem to enjoy it greatly, the asset knows it always hurts to be the one bearing the penetration, to serve as the body on which sex is performed.  This it knows as deeply as it knows how to hold a gun and aim: sex always hurts.</p><p>- - - </p><p>Bucky frowned as Steve cuddled closer to him on the couch, laying his head on Bucky’s shoulder as he continued sketching.  When this happened last night, Steve had, after some time, leaned in to kiss him.   Tonight, the new maneuver is to slowly entwine his legs with Bucky’s.   Steve may be a great tactician in the field, but his maneuvers here are far from subtle.  Bucky knows what comes in the next step of physical intimacy: sex.</p><p>Sure, the declaration of love soothed an ache inside of him that he didn’t know he’d had, the kisses and gentle touches were like rainwater on the desert of his skin, and the legs currently entwined with his grounded and connected him to Steve.  But Bucky wasn’t looking forward to what will happen next in the bedroom.</p><p>Sex always hurts.</p><p>He almost preferred it more when there’s more than ten people using him, because sure, it may hurt more for him, but at least his pain would bring about pleasure for 10, instead of one.   But the Avengers seemed to prefer pairing off in twos or threes.   He supposed, wryly, that it made sense that when love and companionship were involved, people are more willing to endure pain in exchange for the pleasure of their loved ones.</p><p>A frightening thought came to him as Steve dropped even further into his lap, and starts making happy sounds when Bucky starts stroking his hair.  What if Steve planned to be the one to endure the pain?  He huffs in exasperation.  That would be a distinctly Steve maneuver, wouldn’t it? Grit his teeth and push through the pain, just because he thinks that Bucky might like it.</p><p>The thought of it makes Bucky sick in his stomach — he knows what sex is like, and he wouldn’t wish that particular role on anyone.  He hasn’t ever been in the pleasure role, at least not that he can remember, and can’t fathom any physical sensation worth the pain of his partner.  </p><p>But maybe Steve enjoys pain?  The guy’s been getting bloody knuckles and bruised ribs since before he can remember.  Bucky frowned, thinking back to the conversations with Stark full of eyebrow wiggles — wasn’t there, well, some sort of negotiation?  To make sure that the person who desires pain and the person willing to deliver pain have an agreement about type and duration?</p><p>“Whatcha thinkin bout, Buck?”  Steve looks up from his sketchbook and tilts into Bucky’s for a soft kiss.  “Why the long face?”</p><p>Bucky shrugs, and decides to pull Steve into another kiss.  “Missed you.”  Steve beams and moves to straddle Bucky, and he quietly resigns himself to sex tonight.  He didn’t want to go to war, either, but them’s the breaks.   At least he could show Steve a good time.</p><p>After the kisses turn into nibbles and Steve starts rocking his hips against Bucky, hardening cock, Bucky picks Steve up and carries him to Steve’s bedroom.  Steve is blushing, his eyes wide with want.   “How do you want it?”</p><p>Bucky looks at Steve, so happy and glowing, and decides to play it safe.  “You fuck me.”  If there was to be a conversation about whether Steve enjoys pain, it’ll keep.</p><p>He looked around the room.  “Okay if I make noise when you fuck me?”  “I mean, I can probably keep quiet, but…”</p><p>Steve laughs.  “These rooms are soundproof, so no worries about disturbing the others.”</p><p>That… doesn’t exactly answer the question — handlers had always had a preference for whether he showed his pain or hid it, and he wants to do it in a way that gives Steve pleasure.  But he supposed that the soundproofing means Steve’s expecting noise.  Steve’s kind that way — it’s easier to deal with pain when he doesn’t have to bite it back.   Bucky pulls Steve into another grateful kiss before getting into position.  </p><p>“Um, Buck?  You doing all right?”  Steve asks from somewhere behind him.</p><p>Bucky nods.  “It’s fine.  You ready to fuck me yet?”</p><p>“I was… kind of hoping we’d kiss a little more?”</p><p>Bucky frowns.  “How about you fuck me first, and then we kiss?”  Better to save the good stuff for after the pain.   He wiggles his ass in a way that the handlers had found enticing, just to get the sex back on track.  The sooner he can get it over with, the sooner he can go back to kissing and cuddling with Steve.</p><p>Bucky hears the uncapping of slick and was glad that Steve’s taking the time to make sure his cock didn’t chafe on the way in.  That usually happened with the first guy or two, although after that, his hole would usually be slick enough with blood or cum to make it easy for the rest of the men.  Bucky bore down and braced himself for the upcoming intrusion.  The first cock always hurt.</p><p>The thing gently sliding its way into his ass was not a cock, however.  Bucky arches back to give Steve a questioning look.  </p><p>“What are you doing, Steve?”</p><p>Steve pauses, one knuckle in, and frowns in confusion.  “Um… using my finger?”</p><p>“Yes, I figured that out.  But why?  Why not just fuck me?”</p><p>Steve frowns some more.  “Um… because that’d hurt?”  Then, eyebrows raising as another thought hits him, “Wait, do you… want it to?”</p><p>Bucky shrugged, irritated.  “Of course not.”  He doesn’t want pain, but it’s not exactly an option here, is it?</p><p>But as Steve slowly slides in a second finger, and he feels his hole release the previous tension, he wonders.  Is this how sex could work?  Without pain?  But how would Steve going to enjoy it if Bucky’s not hurting?  HYDRA had always drawn pleasure from ramming it into him, and praised him for the tightness.  Is this something where Steve is loosening him up and then has some other method to tighten him later?  Baton, perhaps, or caning?</p><p>Bucky is pulled back from his thoughts when he hears a low guttural “oh fuck” from Steve.  And suddenly he realizes that Steve’s cock is fully in him.   Bucky wanted to laugh — it was so painless he hadn’t even noticed.  He wanted to growl — all those times with HYDRA could have been like this, if they’d ever bothered to.  He wanted to whine — beg for more of this, pray that there’s no pain waiting down the line.</p><p>Slowly, Steve pulled out again and pushed back in, and Bucky could feel a frisson of pleasure build as his body stops bracing itself for pain.</p><p>Bucky smiles and leans into Steve’s thrusts, letting the gentle fucking drive away the remainder of his fears.</p>
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